Complete Silence
by MalusImmi
Summary: Parlh was a blood elf who wasn't scared of anything. That is, until he was taken hostage and almost went insane. He found comfort in Jamel, a night elf who was so sane it was scary. But, his saviors past is a little too interesting. WoW fanfic, YAOI
1. Prologue

A/N: Alright, I would like to get some of these silly legal things done. First, I do not own World of Warcraft. I own an account of World of Warcraft, but the actual production and creation of the amazingly great online game is done by Blizzard (and maybe some other companies on the side. I'm not very technical) This is purely fan-made and I am gaining absolutely zip profit from this. It was created for the entertainment of others out of the goodness of my heart. (coughmaybe a little evilcough)I apologize if there are any spelling/grammar problems. I am my own beta, and I go through my works, but i miss some stuff. Feel free to point it out if you find something wrong.

That out of the way, I'd love to take a whole page for myself, but I won't. =P this story will eventually lead to YAOI or hard male/male relationships. This story is rated M for profanity, sexual themes/references, and explicit violent themes/references. If any of this disturbs you in anyway, this is not the story for you. So kindly take your leave.

…Now. =DD

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**_Complete Silence_**

_Prologue_

Azeroth was a land that once was overcome by complete peace and harmony. All creatures lived in perfect balance, all giving and taking their fair amount of energy and land. Every living creature who lived on this sacred land faced challenges, but they never turned on each other. It was simply another world that believed it would live in tranquility and prosperity.

…It was also another world that was horribly mistaken.

Although I won't dwell on mindless details, the land had eventually broken up into extreme rage and loathe. The Burning Legion fought the Scourge. Alliance fought Horde. War claimed the land and its people, dragging all from the raging Orcs to even the prideful Night Elves into its evil grasp. Armies were built and spread, backs were turned, and most regretfully, blood was shed.

***

The sky was painted a hue of orange and pink, no clouds marring the atmospheres perfection. Smoke mingled with the rich scent of wet earth as a young Night Elf warrior stood in front of his Goddess's, Elune's, temple. His body was clad in thick mail armor; It was clearly polished, though worn from recent and old battle use. His long cape of blue silk fluttered silently behind him as a faint breeze blew through his unkempt, though still visibly perfect, hair. The long nourishing green strands mingled with his pale blue skin, his sharp jaw line pressurized in a tense gesture. There were forty three men standing behind him, all of which dressed in nearly the same fashion. They all held sharp swords or wicked battle bows. These men were prepared for war.

The young Night Elf turned to his followers, his companions, and stared at them all intently. He seemed to gaze into each and every one of their souls, asking them all the silent question if they were prepared for violence. If they were prepared to give up their lives, and leave their families and friends behind to defend their country and countless others. They all seemed determined. No man would leave that day.

"You all are brave," The apparent leader started. His voice was soft, though demanding. "I give you all my respect for that. We shall not give the Burning Legion the thrill of opponents who cower beneath their gaze. We will rise against them, and we will conquer." His glowing gaze trailed over every other of them slowly again. "In Elune's name, I bless you."

Not only a few frightfully silent seconds after his speech, a loud, tormented battle horn was blown harshly, and the ground beneath their feet began to shake and tremble. Commander Scronic, the Night Elf leader, turned on his heel and snarled at the appearance of Orcish in the distance. He raised his sword into the air high, and as loud a voice as he could muster, he shouted to the heavens. "For the Alliance!"

Arrows from the back of the group flew forward, and the others charged. The battle had commenced.

Scronic mounted his large forest cat and so did the others. They all raced forward into the mess and began to fight for their lives.

The commander took no waste, and jumped off of his cat, slashing his malachite embedded broadsword at four screaming figures, all of which bled from the mid section and fell over. Their faces had been painted with war paint of various colors, and the blood that splashed up and onto their faces made it smear. They gasped until they bled out and died.

Scronic rose from his knee's and looked at them all in pity. Violence was all he knew for that moment. And violence was the last thing he saw on that battle ground.

****

A female Night Elf stood bent over a fire, her hands outstretched towards the flames that itched to lick her fingers. Pig meat that she had scoured from earlier sat in a pan above said heat, and was simmering as it cooked. A mere infant sat on her lap, its glowing eyes wide and innocent. They clutched tightly to her soft shirt, both hands occupied in the cloth. They pulled faintly, and she looked down. "Shush for now, the meal will be prepared soon." She whispered soothingly, stroking a hand through her child's short green hair. "When your father returns, he will be expecting food. He deserves no less after leading all of those men into battle."

The child hummed softly in response, picking at the decorative beading in his mothers blouse. "F...Fad...Fadder…" He struggled out, seeming pleased with himself afterwards.

The mother's eyes widened and she stopped what she was doing. Looking down at her child, a small smile slowly spread across her lips. She grabbed the infant and held them close. "That's right, your father." She whispered, having understood what her child had meant.

The sound of heavy foots stomping on the dirt road that lead towards Ashenvale Kalimdor filled the air, and soon the honorable kel'dorei were able to be seen approaching. They all looked battered and bruised, some even riding on the backs of others. Some were deathly still and pale; some of which were recognized. All of the women and elders, and the few men that stayed behind poured out of their huts and buildings. They were all in a small city named Astranaar, and all men who had left were known.

As the men stopped a few feet away from the villagers, space and time stopped. All held their breath as they searched for their loved one's, and finally, the mother spoke up as her eyes landed on a pair of tired ones. Green hair cascaded over his cheeks and forehead, and they smiled at each other. "Scronic!" She exclaimed as she ran towards the man, her arms thrown in the air. Said man jumped off of his mount and ran towards his wife, his arms circling around her waist and picking her up. They twirled in their spot, both faces buried in each others shoulders, both crying in relief and happiness. Soon after, all other villagers did much the same, all running towards each other. Some cried in relief, and some cried in sadness, as a good portion of the men Scronic had taken with him had perished.

Scronic undid his wife's braid, pulling her long raven strands free from their bond. They tumbled over her shoulders and back, her light blue skin glowing with her happiness. "Elequire," He whispered softly. "You are a great relief to the eyes of the violent."

Elequire smiled softly, her hand finding its place on her husband's cheek. "Scronic, I am only a relief to the loyal and proud." She responded, pulling down her husbands head and letting her lips linger lightly against his own. After a moment, Elequire pulled away. "You must see your son. It has been months since he has last see you."

Scronic nodded and allowed himself to be gently pulled by his wife to their shared home. Inside, a small breathing figure played with a small stick that was carved into the shape of a sword. It was dull on the end, and the child could never swing it hard enough to hurt something, but just the mere sight made Scronic proud though saddened. "Jamel." Scronic quivered, approaching his child.

Jamel turned in his spot on the floor and his eyes widened. "F-Fadder?" He bumbled, chocking out the new words with his young voice. He stood on his fat legs and balanced himself, then wobbled quickly over to his father. "Fadder!" He repeated, squealing. He held his arms out much in the same way his mother had only moments ago.

Scronic chocked on his own air and fell to his knee's, scooping up Jamel in his arms. He buried his face in his hair, breathing in the scent of his own flesh and blood. With his son squirming and giggling and just being so... so _alive_ in his arms, Scronic thought he knew complete happiness.

***

A loud crash, and then the sound of crackling fire. Screams and Cries of agony. Jamel sat in the back of the hut he shared with his two parents, now much older since his father had returned. He had been a mere infant then, but now he was a young man or 'teen-ager' as some humans called it. His knee's were pulled up tightly to his chest, his hands needing the blanket his mother threw over him what seemed like hours ago, but was actually moments. He –No, ALL of the village- had been awoken by the sound of fire and arcane magic. His father, now known as The Great Elder Scronic, had rushed out of the small home with his old battle sword and his mother had followed close behind, though she had shape shifted into a midnight blue feline, her teeth long and dangerous.

Neither had returned to the hut yet, and the smell of burning tree's and bodies was making Jamel feel sick. He listened to every sound around him carefully, shaking violently with every final scream or the sound of flesh being ripped open. Before he even had time to react, a body was slammed into his own home. He jumped up onto his feet, as quiet as his feet would allow him. He ignored the memory of his mothers voice in his head from when she had instructed him of survival skills when he was younger. _'Never fight a being that you see lying alone, and never approach an injured animal. Besides both of these skills, you must learn to pick up on power surges that radiate from the body. If the pulsations seem strong, then they are more powerful then you. If the pulsations leave you feeling weak and drained, do not go any nearer.' _

This being was definitely radiating powerful pulsations, but he was also bleeding sluggishly through a large gaping hole that was placed right above his left abdomen. It was still breathing, but Jamel figured it wouldn't be able to do much harm to him in such a condition.

Moving closer to the being, he inspected it further, noting immediately that it was not a species that lived normally in Astranaar. It didn't have near as long of ears, and its build was more choppy and bulky then that of an elf or human. It had strange markings drawn over its cheeks in black, white, and red. Its skin was a smoggy green, almost that of a pond that was filled with disease and covered in moss. Two long tusks jutted over its upper lip from its lower set of teeth. Its armor looked as if it was made of rotted metal and leather pieces that were lazily sewn together, but it's weapons were well sharpened and covered in blood; still wet.

Jamel jumped back a few feet out of habit as the being groaned loudly, gasping out when his body went into shock. He turned over with his eyes screwed shut, his face contorted in pain and anger. When he opened his eyes, he met with Jamel's, and suddenly life seemed to spurt back into his beaten body. He got to his knees and crawled/limped over to Jamel, his eyes glazed with blood lust. His grubby hand reached out and caught Jamel's ankle, pulling him closer to him. Jamel panicked, and despite his teaching, screamed and writhed, clawing at the polished boards beneath him. His nails scratched helplessly at the wood, and suddenly sharp, unbelievable pain raked through his left leg. He let out a loud animalistic cry as he looked back with wide eyes to see that his leg from the bottom of his knee down was cut open and bleeding raggedly. The scent of his own ripped open flesh and sweat mixed with the rotten scent of the being behind him made him virtually sick. _'Find something sharp.' _His mind automatically told himself. And so he did.

Eyes scanning over the room quickly, he spotted something sparkling in the outsides fire light. Squinting quickly, he realized it was his father's dagger. Not in as good of shape as his fathers sword, but it was still regularly sharpened and polished. Jamel looked back at the being (which he suddenly realized was an orc) and crawled backwards a little. This gesture threw off the orc a little, so he slightly lessened his grip on Jamel's ankle. Taking this moment to his advantage, Jamel threw his foot backwards and sunk it deep within the orc's wound. After he saw his foot was literally inside of the attacker, Jamel had the courtesy of paling immensely. He yanked it out, crying out again as pain shot through his leg and it began to bleed more. The orc was in no better condition, and actually seemed to be paralyzed momentarily. Jamel writhed forward and grabbed the dagger by the blade (since that was the closest part facing him), moaning as he felt the sharpened edge bite into the flesh of his palm. He paid no mind to the wound and turned around, slashing mindlessly at the orc.

Eventually, Jamel had cut the orc to the point it wasn't even fighting anymore, and was simply a gasping heap of blood on the ground. Finally, the final blow was taken and the orc went completely limp. The sudden lack of pulsations confirmed Jamel that the attacker was indeed deceased.

But as soon as Jamel was relieved and went into the false state of mind that he was safe, his vision began to blur. He clutched his head as an incredible amount of pain forced itself inside of his skull. The edges of his sight turned black and soon, the entirety of it was consumed by the growing darkness.

Falling over limply, Jamel only took notice of the last thing he heard that fateful evening.

Complete Silence.

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A/N: SO! This is really short… Yeah, this is the prologue of my story. Right now there isn't any hot action or anything. Actually, this showed a little bit of one of the main characters past: Jamel. Trust me, if you like Jamel right now, then soak this chapter up. Because as a future reference, this may be the only chapter that I ever write that will be from his point of view. And only the last part of it was!

Reviews are yummy. I eat 'em up like … like FOOD!!!

Rates are also like.. food.. yeah…

Flames will be taken to the top of the next chapter where I will proceed to make fun of them and make smores with, Because everybody likes smores and I'll share them with the nice people!

Next chapter will either be posted tomorrow or next weekend. =P Depends on if I get any reviews that inspire me a lot. ::Shrugs:: THANKS FOR READIN!! =DD!!!

Commander Scronic/The Great Elder Scronic (Night Elf Warrior) – Me (As in one of my characters)

Mother Elequire (Night Elf Druid) – Me

Jamel (Night Elf ???) - Jessica


	2. Butterfly Cry

A/N: Wow. Umm.. I'm not very good at keeping promises huh? Sorry! I am SO sorry for not updating this earlier. It didn't really slip my mind, it's just that it was end of semester at my school and I'm getting switched forcibly between almost completely different classes then what I had before. Sometimes, life is just not FAIR!!!

But anyway, I did not get any flames at all. So, I don't have to make fun of someone's failed attempts at getting to me because.. well, frankly… no one even tried. :DD Yay! This chapter, by the way, is titled after a song by Kerli. You should look it up on youtube and listen to it while reading this chapter, because it really sets the mood. Especially at the end. This chapter and proceeding chapters will be in 1st person from Parlh's point of view.

Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. Blizzard does (and maybe some other companies. I'm not very technical.) However, most characters in the story are OC and belong to my friends and I.

Warning: Will contain hard YAOI or male/male relationships in later chapters. For the first couple of chapters it will be more dark and angsty as we see Parlh try desperately to not go insane.

Now then, on with the show!

Complete Silence

Chapter one:

Butterfly Cry

I can't remember how many times, exactly, I have walked this direct path. Maybe, if I was to randomly assume, around five hundred thousand times. But who was keeping count after so many years of the life I've had to lead?

All of the passer-by stared at me as I marched down Murder Row, my own footsteps ringing so loudly in my ears that I was mildly shocked I wasn't going deaf. It was always like this when _he_ summoned me. Lor'themar Theron. Leader of all Blood elf kind. His rule is known wide in the horde, and many fear his name. I, being quite powerful myself, am not afraid of this man. Quite on the contrary, I find him fascinating and loyal, a creature of pure cleanliness and magnificent power. Yes, I feel completely sick whenever I near his quarters, but I do not fear him. Probably why I am so fascinated by him is because of this guttural feeling I receive when I near him. With enemies, it is always nearly natural to pick up on power aura's, but it's difficult to feel backlash from comrades. The thought of the magic coursing through his veins made me shiver delectably. It's an honor to serve him.

However, the missions he gives to his high warriors and mages are so difficult and dangerous that he gives all who he summons a choice. They can go, or not go. Although it may dishonor your family if you refuse, many have. The choice that he gives you is not the simple question of "Do you want to go?" No, it instead was implying the unasked words "Are you willing to die slowly and painfully, or be tortured for the rest of your life?" But no pressure.

I have not turned down a single task.

By now I was walking through the Court of the Sun, and my robes where starting to get a little damp from nervous sweat. I could feel the nauseating ache in the pit of my stomach already, even though I was a very good distance from the actual Sunfury Spire. These actions were the average reaction from many of the men that Theron called to the Spire, but that didn't make it any less difficult to cope with them. I –well, no one- is used to such raw arcanic power radiated from a single source. As with any blood elf, a small part of me craved for that kind of power, wanting to succumb to the outrageous need and want for magical slivers. But, I had grown an immunity to that part of me, and it was locked safely away from the well being of my mind altogether. For now.

I could feel my knee's tremble just a faint much as I began to arise up the long rows of steps to the Spire. My staff made of fire metal and crystallized fire orbs felt incredibly heavy, even though it was designed to be light weight. The nauseating ache that I had felt earlier had turned into a nearly overwhelming pain, and I felt as if my skull was going to split in half. My eyes watered, but my tongue grew dry, my throat clenching painfully tight. With a shock, I realized many of these symptoms where much worse then they normally were. Reactions like these magnificent radiations could have been the cause of a few things; strong hatred or anger, a sudden impulse of adrenaline, or yet another strong being standing within a very close radius of the original source. Liking to believe that I knew Theron fairly well, I knew that he very rarely had strong emotions. When he did, he retreated into complete solitude for a few weeks to calm down, since the waves of intense arcane power would no doubt morph many blood elf into wretched.

As for a burst of adrenaline, any loyal subject of the horde knew that when one of the three powerful leaders where in their official quarters, that was where they rested. There would be no need for adrenaline. So only one option remained; there was another strong humanoid in the Spire.

Finally reaching the top of the Spire, nearly toppling over with exhaustion, I saw what was causing me immense trouble.

There was an insanely tall being next to Theron, clad in such fine silk that I felt poor compared to them. My long blonde hair had been pulled back to keep it out of my face, and my own specially tailored robes where threaded with enchanted string to not only heighten my amount of spell casting energy, but to look extremely fine under any circumstance. Looking at the golden platted red silk showering the being before me, I couldn't help but to feel a little cheated of some of the gold I own.

My breathing must have been rather erratic, because soon both Theron and the stranger where turning to face me. I took this moment to allow my eyes access to the new one's face. He was handsome; very handsome. His jaw line was precise and sharp, and his cheek bones were high. His hair was actually fairly short, but it was such a rich red that it didn't matter. His eyes were such a clear shade of brown that it almost seemed as if he could have store into your soul. He most definitely was _not_ blood elf.

Even though I knew from the splitting head ache I was getting I would pose absolutely no threat to him, I reached for my staff and pulled as much energy as I could to my fingertips, causing a quick flare of flame to appear right above them. Even if I died, I had a sworn duty to protect all of Silvermoon City and Theron with my life.

To my dismay, the being just screwed up it's face and started to laugh, Pointing at me, he turned to Theron and exclaimed something in a different tongue. I felt my face boil, slightly from anger and slightly from embarrassment. My actions were not to be taken lightly! I could have burnt that beautiful silk right off of his body!

Then, however, I saw Theron frowning and shaking his head. He hissed something back to the other in the same foreign language, and that, I assumed, was a very convincing threat because they pulled down their arm sharply and turned rather pale. Theron sighed and then turned to look at me a long moment. After awhile, I started to wonder if he was ever going to actually speak to me, but that thought was cut off quickly as his deep masculine voice filled the air. "Come closer Parlh."

I did as I was told and glared at the other being as I pushed the energy away from my hand, the fire extinguishing in seconds. I swear, I would have spat at the being if it wouldn't have ruined the perfect red silk.

"Parlh," Theron repeated. He motioned towards his sleeping quarters. "Please wait for me there."

I nodded and walked toward the thick purple curtain, swishing it aside and then closing it slowly behind me. I have been in this room many times. Theron only wished me into here when he had something very important to say, and it was something that was to be kept in total secret.

I couldn't help but to smile faintly at the familiar surroundings. The room was very large, and a single broom moved on its own, sweeping up discarded papers and dust. A large red sleeping pouch was placed in the center of the master window, looking out about the entirety of Silvermoon City. Books and papers lay on a few tables and desks, and the wardrobe was sealed tightly though the corner of one of Theron's capes stuck out. The commander and beloved leader actually wasn't the most organized of men.

Hearing footsteps approaching, I turned around to see Theron pushing aside the curtain, looking rather disgruntled. The other man followed close behind him.

"Parlh, this is Commander Grenddit." He started, the other man smirking maliciously at me. "He is a human."

Before I could stop myself, I responded with an icy, "Alliance scum." And just as icy a glare.

The _human _frowned after that, crossing his arms. "Arch mage Parlh, then?" He asked, speaking in my own tongue this time. "I don't know _why _you keep trying to test my patience. I could quite literally turn you into a burning husk with a snap of my fingers." To add a little bit of truth to his words, he purposely sent out an extremely powerful pulsation, making me nearly collapse on the spot. I grumbled and crossed my own arms, trying not to falter. Damn human.

"I'm not trying to test your patience, _Commander_, I'm just genuinely curious as to why an Alliance dared to take home in the Sunfury Spire." I shot back, my own temper getting the better of me. Something about Grenddit was just annoyingly gloaty, and off. Such a pure smile of malice never meant good. Why, in the name of the sun well, was he even _here_?

"You two, I command you to stop this mindless quarrel." Theron snapped, though not really angry. He knew better then to do that. There was a reason he was dubbed the leader of us all, after all. He stared at me for a moment, and was completely serious. "Parlh, Commander Grenddit will be assisting you in this task. If you agree to go, of course."

For once, I was wondering if Theron had quite seriously lost his mind.

"I will assist you in any way I can M'lord, but…" I paused to just stare at the alliance standing in the room. "He is a human. An alliance. Our foe!"

"I am not! I am horde!" Grenddit snapped. I stared wide eyed at the man as if he was insane. He could not be horde! Could he? The entire situation unnerved me to minds end.

"Parlh, this is serious." I heard Theron say, and I turned to him sharply. He was slumped against the wall, large dark bags underneath his eyes, and his skin looking more pale then usual. I felt ashamed at noting how tired and just plain worried my commander looked only now. Whatever it was that brought this human here, it really was serious.

"I'm sorry. Please inform me of my task. I will not step out of line again." I promised.

Theron nodded and then sighed, motioning towards the large sleeping pouch. "Please, sit. You will need to for this."

I did as I was told, and braced myself for the worst.

Now, because of the large amount of tasks I have done before, I always knew that there definitely always could have been a worse situation to be assigned for. But… As I searched desperately for another task that could be worse, I couldn't find one. This was the most dangerous and risky mission I had ever been assigned to.

"_Parlh, the Alliance have descriptive maps of all the main Horde cities. They are planning an invasive attack on the entirety of the Horde! I cannot allow them to have those maps any longer. If they plan to attack us, then they will not know of our secret hide outs or tunnels. At least, that was what we thought when we first built such statures, but with that information in the enemies hands, I fear for the worst. They could even use our own defensive tact's against us!"_

_I blinked at the great lord of blood elf kind. "What…" I started, almost afraid of the question I wanted to ask. "What do you want me to do?"_

_Theron sighed and leaned over, his head held in his hands for the longest of moments. Finally he looked up at me, his glowing green eyes sad and dim. "I want you to infiltrate the castle at Stormwind, the Alliance's main city, and burn those maps."_

_I sighed in relief, happy that it wasn't extremely hard of a mission. "That isn't that da-"_

"_That's not the only thing Parlh." Theron interrupted. Even Grenddit, when I looked over to him, seemed sad and nervous now. "I also…" He took in a deep breathe, and then I knew for certain that this mission would be the last I was ever able to do._

"_I need you to slay the king."_

Now, the reason for such a thing was that the king undoubtedly had planned out a Horde mercenary or strong fighter was going to try and get the maps. Because, quite frankly, he knew that the Horde would find out about them eventually. He wasn't a stupid man. And even with the best of men, a mage or a hunter could destroy the maps from a long distance away. So he did something that would guarantee victory for them, even if the maps were successfully destroyed.

He had the images and details of the maps magically implanted into his mind. He was basically invincible against us in our own homes with that information implanted in such a way that he could never forget.

So, I was assigned the mission of destroying the maps, so no other individual could get such a thing done or use them, and slay the king so that he could not lead the Alliance in an attack against us with all of our tricks unfolded in their palms. If both parts of the mission where done successfully, the Alliance was just as clueless as they were before.

Now how the Alliance got such maps in the first place is obvious; there is a traitor among us somewhere. But we will worry about them later. For now, I must complete my mission or have all of the Horde destroyed from the inside out.

But no pressure.

At least, I know for certain, that I can die with dignity. Because, frankly, I know I'm going to die. Maybe not immediately, but it will happen sometime. Why not, at the very least, go down with a mark in history?

Snapping out of my trance when I felt cool fabric brush against my face, I realized with a shock that I was already at my home. I was so enwrapped in my own response that I hadn't realized that I was subconsciously going to my home to say goodbye to my family.

_Theron's gaze was soft though obviously concerned and conflicted. "I'm sorry that I'm asking so much of you. I'm disappointed in myself because you really just reached the age where you were able to fully live, and I feel as if I'm taking that life away from you." He mumbled, wringing his wrist so much that it was starting to turn an angry shade of maroon and purple._

What he said was true. Not only thirty years ago I had celebrated Tranquilika; the festival in which a blood elf reaches the age of full maturity. Said blood elf was given many more rights, and where even allowed to pick their mate of choice. They where able to pick their own professions, gain their own money, and find their own ways in working on up the food chain.

I, actually, had been very high up in society for awhile, since my father had been a man with great power. He had served as the right hand warrior of Theron's father for two thousand and twenty four years. Unfortunately, both had perished in battle, and both Theron and my elder brother had taken their respective places in society. Even though I was not the right hand warrior of Theron like my elder brother, I had forced myself to learn any form of fighting skills. Turned out that I was no good at stealth or brute force, but I had found a natural skill with spell casting. The energy within my own body was much stronger then many. Only a very few rare ones where literally _born_ to be a spell caster.

I had caught Theron's attention when the second Commander had assigned me a B rank task to take down and destroy fifty undead that dwelled within the dead scar. I had done it within three days, instead of the thirteen that was the average.

I was raised to the title of 'Arch Mage' after I had completed four of Theron's specialized missions, and had only progressed since then. Yes, I was still an Arch Mage, but I respected that title, and so did all others. I was soon doing almost every task of Theron's since I seemed to get them done quickly, quietly, and cleanly.

But even with this amount of record, the task I was just assigned was above rank A. It was classified as a rank O, which was a rank that many feared; I being no exception.

_I felt my breathe try to leak out of my throat, but it was so incredibly tight that the thought was discarded quickly. I was still so young, still had a good ten thousand years ahead of me. But with this… this insane and despicable news, I had at the least a good two months._

_ "Are you… I'm so sorry, Parlh. I just cannot trust anyone else with this mission, because I honestly have no idea of who the infiltrator could be. I might have ended up sending the wrong man." Theron said, his hand coming out to rest on my shoulder. _

_ I shook my head, forcing an entirely fake and anguished smile onto my face. I couldn't help the malice that practically leaked form the words I spat out. "There's nothing saying that _I'm_ the traitor isn't there? I am flattered by the pure honesty and trust that you show to me M'lord. I will do as you say."_

_ Theron's gaze seemed distant for a split second, but quickly became the same set of serious glowing green orbs that we all shared. "You will be remembered as a hero Parlh." He breathed, he also believing –no, KNOWING- that I was undoubtedly going to die or become enslaved on this task. "I promise."_

The hand on my shoulder had suddenly lost its comfort to me, and the once warm eyes had seemed dead and painful. Everything had seemed so less vibrant. Was I only living in a fantasy world of colors and achievements? Was I really so naïve to believe that I would not be thrown away like a toy to complete hard tasks that no other man would dare take? That I was worth more then that to my City? To… to Theron? The man I had taken to blindly admire and respect and even… even fancy a tiny bit? I was an absolute fool. An idiot deserving such cruel of a fate.

I couldn't find the strength in my body to actually pull aside the curtain that blocked me from my family. My little brother and sister, my elder brother, and my mother. My kin. My _life_. Though, it had always seemed as if there was a curtain between us. They all loved me, of coarse, and I loved them in return. But there was just something that… that was different between us. As if none of us were really _there;_ were really a complete family. I almost felt like they wouldn't quite care the same way a real family would when I told them I was most likely going to never see them again. It had been that way since my father had died. He was what had made us a real family. And with him gone, our kinship went with him.

I turned around swiftly, away from the fabric of blue, away from the sound of faint laughter and away from the scent of food. Away from the ones who really did mean something to me. I wouldn't tell them goodbye, because there would be no need. I would return. And maybe with such a close experience to death, I would find that light we needed, I needed.

I walked away, and then ran for the front gate where I was to meet Grenddit.

Not even my own footsteps reached me.

There was only silence.

Complete silence.

A/N: SO!!!! Chapter one is up!!!

I think I'm on a role with this "Complete Silence" thing as the last sentence of the chapters. Dunno, just seemed appropriate at the time.

Real quick, I would like to note that I do not believe that in Azeroth people would really care what gender preference you had. I think it would be more of an issue of how powerful or high in society the other was. Or, most importantly, what faction they were. (xDDD That SOOOOO was not a spoiler!) So that being said, I'm not going to make this some silly high school fanfiction where the characters are hanging over the fact of "OMG bUT HE'S A GUY~!!! And Im a guy toooooo~ I'M REALLY NOT GAAAaAAAaaaaAAYYYY~!!!!! I MEAN, SURE, I'LL HAVE SEX WITH HIM BUT I'M TOTALLY NOT GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYY~~!!!!!!"

Because quite frankly, that is not original, and it annoys the fuck out of me unless its played right. Or if its hilarious. Or on SNL.

DON'T KILL MEH SINCE IT DON'T GOT NO REAL YAOI YET!!! These things take time. I'm not just gunna have some random guy jump Parlh. D: Sorraay

Once again, Reviews are highly appreciated and welcomed. Even if I don't respond to them, I read EVERY SINGLE ONE!! And it really just makes my day when I open my email and see someone had reviewed. Rates are welcomed just the same.

Flames will be taken to the top of the next chapter where I will proceed to make fun of them and make smores with. Because everybody likes smores and I'll share them with the nice people!!! :DDD And maybe a cookie if you just really rock.

9

Arch Mage Parlh (Blood Elf Mage) – Me

Commander Grenddit (Human Warlock) – Jessica

Lor'themar Theron (Blood Elf ???) -- Blizzard


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